


You and I, Against the World

by enigma731



Category: The Invisible Library - Genevieve Cogman
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27220606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigma731/pseuds/enigma731
Summary: A collection of prompt fics from The Invisible Library ship week on tumblr
Relationships: Irene/Kai (The Invisible Library)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

(Holiday)

It had been raining for nearly a week and bitterly cold to boot. 

Irene liked to think that she wasn’t usually much affected by the weather, particularly because growing up in the Library had meant viewing extended stretches spent indoors as both a comfort and a luxury. Still, even she had limits and at the moment she was approaching them.

With a sigh, she set down the latest stack of treaty-related documents she’d been working on and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You know, ordinarily I like this alternate but between this rain and the smog, I’m starting to feel I’ve had quite enough of it for a while.” Not that she’d be leaving it anytime soon, barring some kind of urgent assignment from the Library.

Behind her, she heard the light scrape of Kai pushing his own desk chair back and then his reflection appeared in the window in front of her, joining her in looking out at the rain. She fully expected him to gloat about it, knew that he loved wet weather like this. 

“If you could go anywhere other than here right now, what would it be?” he asked instead. 

Irene considered, turning away from the dreary scene to regard him instead. He didn’t look anywhere near as weary as she felt, but he seemed happy for the break from working nonetheless. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Travel usually means an assignment. Growing up, going on holiday meant time to be _out_ of the field, in the Library. So I suppose in the past, I would have said there, but…” 

But he couldn’t join her there unless it was in a strictly diplomatic sense, which ruined the appeal.

She shrugged. “What about you?”

“The ocean,” he said immediately, and with a vehemence that made it decidedly more than a casual wish. “Doesn’t even matter which one, just -- the ocean, with nobody else around. Well, except you.”

Irene swallowed, oddly touched by that last. Kai had always been very clear about his feelings for the living water and for him to want to share that with her… “Unfortunately, I’d have a very short limit on how long I could survive in the open water.”

His lips curled up into a smirk. “Oh, you say that as if I’d leave you to swim on your own. I’d carry you, of course.”

She pushed her chair back and turned to face him more completely, realized that this was more than a fantasy to him. He was completely serious. “Perhaps someday we’ll get the opportunity.”

“Not ‘perhaps,’” said Kai, moving closer to rest a hand on her shoulder, his long fingers starting to massage some of the tension out of her tired muscles. “I _will_ make this happen. That’s a promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

(Anniversary)

“You simply _must_ have a table available. I’ve heard _so_ many good things about this place, I just have to try it.” Irene effected a most impressive pout, her tone just this side of a petulant wail.

Kai hung back half a pace behind her, both because he knew she could handle herself and because it afforded an excellent view. This alternate was decidedly modern, and she was wearing the sort of body-hugging black dress he so rarely got to see on her. Then again, he did _frequently_ have the privilege of seeing her in nothing at all. Still, he was going to enjoy this view while he could.

“If you’ve heard anything about The Block, then you must have heard it’s by reservation only,” the maitre d’ insisted, his tone just this side of haughty but still polite. They were in this alternate’s version of Chicago and the accents sounded sharp and grating to Kai’s ear. At least Irene wasn’t attempting to change hers -- a good decision anytime they were in any version of America -- but was leaning into her role as an entitled tourist. 

“Well yes,” said Irene, her dark eyes huge and the sort of innocent Kai was fairly certain she had never actually been. “But how were we supposed to get a reservation when we’ve only _just_ arrived from London? Please, it would make our entire trip.” 

It was true that they had just arrived, and that there hadn’t been any chance of getting a reservation. This place was routinely booked up for months, and they -- Irene, technically, but that meant both of them as far as Kai was concerned -- needed to get in as soon as possible to intercept the Fae executive chef who was their latest target. The maitre d’ still looked confident in his refusal, but he had no idea what was in store for him. Like so many other fools, he was underestimating Irene. 

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but it just isn’t possible,” he repeated. “How long’s your trip? If you want, I can put you on a cancellation list and we’ll give you a call if anything opens up.”

“That doesn’t matter, it _has_ to be tonight,” said Irene. There was a slight flush on her cheeks and her lower lip actually trembled. Kai very well knew it was an act, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a tug of protectiveness as she threw a glance at him over her shoulder. “It’s our first anniversary and we’re in America. My husband promised I could have anything I wanted, and dinner here is what I want.”

“That’s right,” said Kai, taking the cue and moving to stand even with her, arm round her shoulders. There’d been a time when he would have relished an opportunity like this even more, though it wasn’t like being able to do it _outside_ the field made it any less enjoyable. “My girl wants dinner at your establishment, and she _gets_ what she wants.” He met the maitre d’s gaze for a moment, then not-so-subtly flashed a billfold thick with cash. 

The maitre d’ took them in for another long beat of tense silence, then seemed to make the mental calculation that it was in his best interest not to refuse them any further. He sighed. “All right. For the lady. Right this way.”

“Some things are just easier when you’re a man,” Irene muttered under her breath. Fortunately the thrum of conversation in the restaurant was more than enough to prevent the maitre d’ from noticing as he led them to their hard-won table. 

“You’d already worn him down,” Kai said placatingly, though he knew she was right and could very easily have gotten angry on her behalf if he didn’t know that would only have inconvenienced her further. He stepped ahead of the maitre d’ as they arrived at the table so that he could be the one to pull out a chair for Irene. 

By the time he’d taken his own seat, the maitre d’ had disappeared and a waiter had appeared with wine and menus before retreating again. Kai got the distinct impression that, having forced their way in here, they were now going to be made to wait until further service was convenient to the staff. But that was fine by him, even if it might ordinarily have rankled. He was with Irene, and they had the good luck to be seated close to the kitchen, which was an excellent opportunity for reconnaissance. 

He raised his wine glass in something approximating a toast. “Happy anniversary.”

Irene’s smile was genuine, even if the rest of this was an act. “Oh, the same to you.” 

Kai took a sip of wine and lowered his voice, knowing she’d still be able to understand him. “I’ve never had an anniversary before. They aren’t celebrated among my kind.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense, with the emphasis on the future.” She looked into her glass for a moment before setting it down again. “I’ve never celebrated one either. Well, unless you count other situations like this.”

He arched an eyebrow, a bit surprised. He knew Irene had spent her life between the Library and the field, of course, and he’d always gotten the impression that she hadn’t had many lasting relationships as a result. But it was still difficult to imagine that anyone as extraordinary as she was had not been afforded all of the basic traditions expected of humans. “Because of the Library time differential?”

Irene shrugged, but it looked overly casual. “You know I’ve never been sentimental.”

She was, though, and they both knew that he knew it.

“Noted,” said Kai, and caught her eye for a moment before opening the menu. What he meant was: It was clearly past time for him to start paying attention to such milestones. He resolved to do better moving forward.


	3. Chapter 3

(Garden)

As he was in so many other things, Kai was the instigator of the flowers. 

Irene was familiar with floriography, of course. This wasn’t the first Victorian alternate she’d spent time in. Plus, it was the exact sort of mundane-yet-complicated custom she was responsible for studying and documenting in her position as Librarian-in-residence. They’d even talked about it a few times, back when her biggest concern had been finding the time to keep track of local customs between shit probation assignments. 

So she supposed it shouldn’t have been a surprise when she’d come up the stairs and into their private study to find a new crystal vase on the table filled with irises and clematis flowers, the purple looking particularly striking in the dim light of the room. It wasn’t quite sunset yet, but the lamps were already on. Also, Kai was sitting in one of the armchairs, watching her reaction over the top of the book he was pretending to read. 

“Are you telling me I’m clever?” she asked lightly, bending to touch one of the blossoms. At this close range, it smelled vaguely of almonds.

“The word, I believe, is ingenious,” said Kai. “And the iris is telling you that I admire you for it.”

-

The second vase of flowers was on her desk next to a pile of documents to review. It was a bold choice, considering this was one of the more public areas in the embassy. Then again, it was the weekend and she had a feeling Kai knew she was one of the only people who’d be working overtime -- in addition to him, at any rate.

He was sitting at his own desk at the precise moment she came in and found it, addressing an envelope in the sort of elaborate calligraphy she knew he only used for diplomatic situations. Well, and on the uncommon occasion that he left a poem somewhere strategic for her to find. 

“Dahlia and ivy,” she said thoughtfully, though it was really just to get his attention. She already knew what he was telling her. 

“I thought it seemed fitting,” said Kai. “You know I’ve been attached to you from the moment we met.”

“And you will be for the next several decades?” she asked. He said it often enough these days, almost as a joke. She sometimes wondered whether he knew how those words still warmed her entire being.

“At least,” he agreed. “That’s what the ivy is for.”

-

The last arrangement was on her bedside table, waiting for her when she came up to change for the evening. It was a larger vase and filled more completely than the first two. The scent of honeysuckle washed over her immediately as she stepped into the room, heady and sweet like the devotion she knew it was meant to symbolize. It mixed with the sharper scent of eucalyptus, an unlikely pairing but pleasant nonetheless. That second was a statement of protection, nearly synonymous with Kai’s presence in her life. The cornflowers in the arrangement had no appreciable scent, but looking at their blue petals, she couldn’t help but think of his scales -- darker of course yet equally vibrant in sunlight. And they stood for devotion, she knew, which was also quintessential to his nature.

Kai was still downstairs working, and suddenly she was certain that was a deliberate choice. For now, at least, he was letting the flowers speak for themselves.

-

She left her own vase on the study table, in exactly the same place where he’d started this game. 

She chose not to wait in the room, though, telling herself that she wanted to give him space for this. It definitely wasn’t because she would have been too anxious to be still if she had tried. Instead she retreated to the doorway of her bedroom when she heard his footsteps on the stairs, pretending to be occupied by something on her vanity. 

In her peripheral vision, she watched Kai come into the room and stop, taking in the single red tulip. Even without looking directly at him, she could see the shock written on his face along with uncertainty and desperate hope.

“Irene?” His gaze had already found her, which was fine now that he’d seen the flower first. 

She came back into the study, still several paces away from him. She didn’t say anything, because the whole point of this was for the flower to do that for her.

“You know what this means, right?” Kai plucked the flower out of the vase, twirling it delicately between his fingers. 

Irene arched an eyebrow. “Do I typically use any sort of language imprecisely?”

“No,” he breathed, and she saw the tension break as he accepted the statement for what it was. He put the flower back in its vase and closed the distance between them in three long strides, resting one hand on her waist and the other against her cheek. 

“I meant what I said,” she told him a bit defiantly, though she knew she’d already made her point.

“I know,” said Kai. “I know, and I love you too.”


	4. Chapter 4

(Library)

“If things had gone differently,” Irene asked absently, “would you have stayed?” She was standing in front of the vanity, struggling with the tiny buttons at the back of her dress. It was new and the fabric was stiff, plus she’d managed to miss one down at her lower back so now they were all misaligned.

Kai glanced over at her in confusion and stifled a laugh at her predicament. He was half-dressed himself, running a comb through his hair. It still felt novel, having the privilege of joining her in something as simultaneously intimate and mundane as dressing for the day. “Stay where? Last time I checked, I was right here.”

Irene got to the last two buttons at the back of her neck, realized her mistake, and sighed. She let go of the dress for the moment and shook out her arms, which must have been starting to lose circulation. “With the Library. If you hadn’t had to resign, would you have finished your education? Sealed yourself to its service?”

He set down the comb and moved to stand behind her, deftly undoing the buttons. She smiled at him in the mirror, then rolled her neck a bit. Kai winced as it cracked, though she looked quite satisfied. 

“What makes you ask that now?” It wasn’t that he minded the question, it was just a bit jarring. He had her dress fully unbuttoned now and he couldn’t resist running a hand over her Library brand. Not only did he enjoy the feel of it, it never failed to make her shiver pleasantly -- _and_ it was relevant to the conversation, sort of.

“Kai,” she murmured, shuddering predictably, her breathing quickening. 

He wasn’t avoiding her question, really, but now he could see goosebumps rising on the back of her neck, which meant he needed to kiss her there immediately. She made a sound in the back of her throat that made him very tempted to forgo getting ready for the day altogether and take her straight back to bed. Irene turned and kissed him on the lips before pulling back. 

“Kai,” she repeated. “We’ve got meetings beginning in an hour and I would like to have breakfast and coffee before that.”

“I knew you preferred coffee to me,” he grumbled affectionately, taking her by the shoulders and gently turning her back toward the vanity so he could actually do her buttons back up. 

She was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “So. _Would_ you have become a full Librarian?”

“If you had asked me a year ago,” Kai said honestly, “I would have told you no. That I was only there at my father’s request, for the purpose of gathering information. Well -- that’s what I would have said if I had been honest, which I probably wouldn’t have been.”

Irene was facing the mirror again and he saw the shadow pass over her face. It wasn’t surprising -- he’d never actually told her these things, but of course she had worked them out for herself. He’d never been under any illusions that she wouldn’t. She pressed her lips together, then chose her words carefully. “You said that would have been your answer a year ago. So what is your answer now?”

“Good question,” said Kai, finishing the last buttons and resting his hands on her shoulders, not ready to let go yet. “I don’t know that I ever would have managed complete loyalty to the Library like you do. I’m not sure it’s in my nature. But -- If sealing myself to it had been a guarantee of staying with you? I would have done it in a heartbeat.”

He saw her shock in the mirror, saw her struggle for words as she so often did when the conversation involved strong emotions. “Kai. I don’t know what to say. Your family -- “

“Would not have been able to interfere had I taken the vows,” he pointed out. He pressed a final kiss to the nape of her neck and stepped back, sensing that the conversation was veering toward dangerous territory if he said much more. Someday they would need to discuss this in more depth, but neither of them was ready for it yet. “And now I believe you are properly dressed for breakfast.”

“Right.” Irene shook herself, coming back to the present, to the business of the day. “Coffee. At least a pot. We’ve got both Sterrington and Silver on the agenda today.”

And just like that, the moment had passed.


	5. Chapter 5

(Palace)

Kai looked almost comically incongruous in their new lodgings. 

The house was perfectly serviceable, but it was definitely on the older and more basic side even compared to the typical Library quarters. It didn’t help that it had come mostly furnished -- well, strictly speaking, that _did_ help and was part of the reason Irene had chosen it. They’d managed to get access to Aubrey’s bank accounts with surprisingly little resistance, but the modest amount in said accounts was considerably less surprising. So relatively low-cost lodgings it was, which suited Irene just fine. It went with her standard approach of blending in anyway. 

But Kai, she was quickly learning, had difficulty blending in anywhere. It wasn’t that he didn’t _try_ or that he was anything other than perfectly willing to go along with the plan. It just wasn’t in his nature. Everything about him was just a bit too extraordinary to be human. It was ridiculous, actually, that she had ever managed not to be completely certain about what he was. 

“You shouldn’t be doing that,” he said from behind her, breaking into her thoughts. 

Irene started a bit and nearly dropped the book she’d been unpacking onto a well-worn shelf. Kai stepped in smoothly and took it from her, setting it in its place before shifting the box out of her reach.

She sighed. “You are aware that I’m still your superior?” She knew that he knew, of course, but it had only been a few days since she’d received her new post and his protectiveness was already beginning to rankle. 

“Yes,” he said easily, “and I am also aware that your hands are still healing.” He took her by the elbow and carefully helped her up.

“I’m fine,” said Irene, though it was mostly out of habit. Her hands _were_ still quite painful. “Stop worrying about me.”

“Oh, I’m not worried about you,” Kai said dryly, without missing a beat. “I’d just hate to see you bleed on any books.”

She blinked, momentarily surprised by his humor, and then laughed as the tension between them broke. He didn’t wait for further instructions, just knelt where she had been and continued unpacking the books. He’d apparently even noticed that she’d been alphabetizing them by author’s last name, which was impressively perceptive. She made a mental note to hold his powers of observation to a higher standard in the field.

“What do you think of this place?” she asked, because she needed to be doing something other than standing here watching. Also because she was reminded of how ridiculously out of place he looked here, in his freshly-purchased locally tailored clothes. 

Kai shrugged without turning around. “Well it certainly isn’t my father’s palace, but it’s got good character. I like it.”

For a moment Irene could only gape at him, glad that he still had his back to her, though she had the sense that he probably knew what her expression looked like anyway. “Is that a joke?” He had _just_ made a joke about the books, after all.

“No,” said Kai, in a tone that was clearly intended to approximate casual ease but fell miserably short. Not a joke, then -- a calculated play, perhaps even a test. “My lord father Ao Guang is the King of the Eastern Ocean. His palace is rather more impressive than this.”

That most definitely did not help with the gaping. A hundred thoughts tried to run through her mind simultaneously, which resulted in all of them tripping over one another. She had only just begun to come to terms with the fact that he was a dragon and also her student -- and now her housemate as well. She knew precious little about the dragons’ politics and hoped that she would never need to, but having an apprentice of royal blood certainly _seemed_ a threat to her neutrality as a Librarian. Then again, logic dictated that Coppelia had to be aware, and if Kai was planning to seal himself to the Library anyway...she was getting ahead of herself. 

Kai was her student and her friend, and he had already risked his life for her more than once. This revelation shouldn’t change the trust he had more than earned.

“So,” said Irene, impressed with herself for managing such a pragmatic, steady tone, “I believe that makes you a prince, doesn’t it?”

“In the general sense of the term,” he allowed. He was still unpacking books, though she thought his hands were the tiniest bit unsteady.

She considered that. “Is being a prince not a binary condition for dragons?”

“There’s more to that than a binary answer,” he returned. 

“I think,” said Irene, “that if we’re going to live together, it’s time to have a real conversation about this.”

“Well,” said Kai, still sounding tense, but eager more than trepidatious, “I do believe you had promised me an interrogation.”

“I did,” Irene said slowly, remembering now how he’d seemed equal parts relieved and disappointed that she hadn’t done it immediately upon learning his nature. This appeared to be his way of reminding her, and she probably ought to be grateful for it. “Do you think my hands are sufficiently healed to make us coffee?”

He turned, finally, to regard her over his shoulder. Uncertainty was written all over his face, but eagerness was too, and that particular desperate admiration she’d seen a few times now. “I suppose that would be reasonable.” He offered her a small, genuine smile.

Irene couldn’t help but return it. “Then I believe I will be available to interrogate you shortly.”


	6. Chapter 6

(Costume)

If Irene often found herself feeling ordinary next to Kai, then being inside the palace of Ao Shun made her feel not only insignificant but downright frumpy. The simple dark blue dress she was wearing didn’t help with that, though it _was_ a deeper color and more expensive fabric than she ordinarily would have chosen. Officially she was here as a representative of the Library and of the treaty for the purpose of witnessing the coming of age of the youngest dragon prince. Unofficially, she had the feeling that Kai had insisted, perhaps even making his own presence contingent upon her being allowed to attend. The fact that Sterrington had politely declined was convenient and was being quietly overlooked.

The part of Irene that wanted to prioritize the treaty thought that she should have forced Sterrington to attend with them, in her official capacity. The larger part of her only cared that she was at a ceremony for one of Kai’s cousins, which meant ample opportunity to learn the sort of information about his family that he was seldom willing to share. So far she’d only encountered dragons on their best courtly behavior, regarding her with a minimum of their typical disdain for humans. That was promising from a political standpoint, because it no doubt meant that she was gaining respect as an ambassador. It just wasn’t very interesting or convenient when it came to getting more _interesting_ personal details. 

Being here in an official capacity also meant that she had her own suite separate from Kai’s, which had at least thus far prevented anyone from calling her a concubine. But it was lonely and added to her general sense of being out of her depth in this place. So she found herself relieved to be finished dressing, which gave her an excuse to go and find him before the ceremony itself started.

“It’s not locked,” he called when she knocked at the door, which was both strange and not. That was, it was not strange that he wouldn’t bother locking a door in his uncle’s home. It _should_ be safe, but if it wasn’t, a door would not make much difference. On the other hand, walking straight in felt like a violation of some sort.

The door to his bedroom was also open, so she propelled herself through it before she had a chance to overthink it and stop herself.

Kai was seated at the vanity and Irene saw immediately why he hadn’t actually come to greet her at the door: He was in the midst of working his hair into a series of small, intricate braids that looked like they would have taken all of her own concentration and then some. 

“I can come back,” she started, the sense of intrusion flaring up again, “if you need --”

“Don’t you dare,” he interrupted in a tone that was equal parts firm and warm. He deftly slipped a pin into his hair and turned to face her, raking his eyes over her in a way that felt decidedly possessive. “You look incredible.”

“You had better think so,” said Irene, irrationally reluctant to let him see how much that reaction pleased her. “You chose this dress.”

“I do make excellent choices,” said Kai, “but I meant _you_ , not the dress.”

“Flatterer,” she accused. 

“Guilty.” Kai shrugged and leaned back a bit in his chair, apparently finished with his hair. It was pulled up into a bun adorned with an impressive number of small braids like the one he’d been finishing when she’d arrived. She had seen him braid his hair before, of course, but never like this -- which was fitting since the rest of his attire was outside of his usual as well. 

He was wearing a long formal robe in dark blue silk that managed to be the precise shade of his scales and also made her wonder whether dragons had a specific process for achieving that. There was a wave pattern embroidered into the fabric that she was certain represented the ocean, and a belt at his waist in a silver fabric that looked like it might be patterned to resemble a water spout. The whole thing reminded her of the clothing she’d seen in historical texts about the Chinese courts, and yet it was cut and tailored in a way that was decidedly more modern and fashionable. Like everything about the dragons, it managed to feel simultaneously ancient and timeless.

“You look --” She shook her head, aware that she was very uncharacteristically at a loss for words. It wasn’t just that he was beautiful -- which, of course, he _was_ as always and then some -- but also the sense of quiet dignity and power that was somehow enhanced at the moment. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said smugly. “I know I’m breathtaking.”

Irene rolled her eyes. “Breath is _not_ the problem. And I was going to say _royal_ but perhaps I should just let you give yourself your own compliments.”

There was a shift in him that momentarily made her worry she’d taken the humor too far and offended him. But then she realized that he was neither angry nor hurt, the look in his eyes earnest and a bit longing. He caught her hand and laced their fingers before pulling it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “Do you mean that?”

“That I should let you give yourself your own compliments?” It only took her a second to relent. “Of course I do, Kai. I imagine your family will be proud.”

He sighed. “I highly doubt that, though they’ll be pleased I fulfilled their request for my presence.”

“Why not?” asked Irene, unable to fully mask her outrage at that prospect. She had a feeling that she knew the answer -- that Kai could never rise above his status by blood no matter what he did -- but she perpetually hoped she might be wrong.

“I haven’t seen a number of these relatives since I came of age myself,” he said vaguely. It was clear by his tone that that wasn’t usual, that he was bringing this up for a reason, perhaps even as a warning.

She gave him a questioning look. “Because?”

“Because,” said Kai, clearly uncomfortable with this conversation but forging ahead nonetheless, “I managed to disgrace myself on that same evening. There were -- choice remarks made about my parentage, probably aided by the influence of alcohol.”

“About your mother, you mean,” Irene supplied. He’d never talked openly about this, but she’d gathered more than enough to understand the allusion. 

He nodded, not quite meeting her gaze now. “I should have simply accepted it. That would have been the mature thing to do, fitting of a son of Ao Guang who had just come of age. But I didn’t. I -- acted to defend her honor.”

“Kai,” Irene whispered, heart aching for him even worse than it usually did when he spoke of family things of this nature. She’d hoped for more information about his past, but now she could only wish that these particular facts didn’t exist for her to know them.

He shrugged, attempting to move the mood back toward casual. “My lord uncle Ao Shun was gracious enough to offer me guardianship, which spared me the choice between exile or -- other options. And I believe you know the rest.”

“Well,” Irene said fiercely, “you know I don’t always agree with or approve of your family’s actions toward you. But I respect your loyalty to them, and _I_ am proud of you.” She knew it would only hurt more for her to try to convince him that his relatives’ treatment of him was wrong. 

“Irene,” he began, then swallowed and looked away from her. 

There was an impressive headpiece still sitting on the vanity, she realized, which must be the last step he needed to finish dressing. His hands were the subtlest bit unsteady, fingers clumsy as he lifted it to sit atop his bun. Irene reached out and carefully steadied it as he pinned and secured it into place. It was long and flat on the top, strings of sapphires hanging from the brim at the front and back so that he was looking at her through them when he finally turned back to face her.

“Thank you,” he breathed, carefully moving a few strands of crystals out of the way as he leaned up to kiss her. “I’m glad you’re here.”


	7. Chapter 7

(Dreams)

If you asked Irene -- which Kai had done quite regularly and then given up -- she didn’t have nightmares. 

Her dreams were always perfectly mundane and she was always perfectly fine, including when she happened to be awake in the middle of the night and also happened to be shaking.It was frustrating to know that it might help her to acknowledge it, to talk about it, and to also know that she wouldn’t. He couldn’t hold it against her, though -- he _knew_ what it was like to have pain and fears that couldn’t be spoken. 

It was no different than usual this time, aside from the fact that he’d managed to wake first. That had been happening more and more often lately as he’d become accustomed to spending every night with her and his senses had attuned to the ways that she was in sleep. Also since he’d begun spending more time lying awake worrying about her -- about how much pressure she put on herself, how eagerly she ran into danger, how very mortal she was. 

She was still asleep now, though it was clearly anything but peaceful. She’d rolled away from him in dreams, now precariously close to the far edge of the bed and tangled up in the bedclothes. Her breathing was ragged and shallow, and he could have sworn he heard her heart pounding, though in truth he didn’t think his senses were _that_ keen. Carefully, he sat up and rested a hand on her shoulder, ready to catch her if she cringed away from him toward the edge of the bed. 

Instead she sat bolt upright with a gasp, her hair wild and her back so straight that it looked painfully artificial. Even in nothing but moonlight, he could see her frantically searching the room, stopping when she got back around to him. 

“Sorry,” she breathed, trying and failing to keep her tone casual, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Actually,” said Kai, “I believe _I_ woke _you_. Unpleasant dream?” He was experimenting with language, searching for a phrase that she would allow herself to accept. 

“No.” She was aiming her tone toward casual, but it was undercut by the way her voice shook and the way she was still out of breath. “Nothing out of the ordinary.” Which could have implied that _all_ her dreams were distressing, he became aware. He made a conscious decision not to believe that, at least for the moment. 

“All right,” he allowed, knowing that an argument wouldn’t help. “What can I do?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Go back to sleep.” But she was shivering. 

“Can I touch you?” he asked, as he always did in these situations, though she’d never said no. 

“It’s not necessary,” she insisted. “But yes.”

Kai moved slowly, sitting up further and resting both hands on her shoulders. Her muscles were painfully taut under his touch, just as he’d expected. He knew that an actual massage would be too vulnerable an act for her right now, so he settled on running his palms over her upper arms, aware that her skin was unusually flushed and warm through the thin fabric of her top despite the way she was shivering. It was as if she had been fighting a war in her sleep, which he suspected was not too far from the truth.

Gradually she allowed herself to sink back against him, turning over to rest her forehead against his shoulder when she was close enough to press the length of her body against his. Kai wrapped his arms around her and sunk down against the pillows and mattress again, rubbing her back and burying his nose in her hair. She was still shaking, her heart still pounding hard and fast enough that he could feel it against his chest, but it was getting better. 

“You know I’ll protect you, Irene,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair and tucking as much of it as he could behind her ears. She was growing it back out and it was at an awkward transitional stage. “Even against your dreams, if you’ll let me.”

“I know,” she said against his neck, her voice steadier now, but muffled. “And I also know that’s your way of saying you love me.”

“It is,” said Kai, “and I do.” He kissed the top of her head, lingering there.

“Likewise,” Irene returned, and he could hear in her tone that she wanted it to be more, that she was still finding the courage and the words.

That was all right, he’d already decided. He knew what it meant to be raised with certain mental doors locked tight. And besides, he was a dragon. He had all the time in the world. 

In a little while, he knew, they’d go down to the darkened kitchen together and make tea. Maybe Irene would get back to sleep and maybe she wouldn’t, but either way, they would both continue to act like this was a normal occurrence.

And maybe it was, Kai thought. Maybe it was one more type of scar, one more mark of the life they’d both chosen. Maybe that was also all right -- He might not like to see her in any sort of distress, but he could learn to love this part of her too.


End file.
